Looking Through

by hallowgirlfrommars

Sequel to my fanfiction Looking On. Isabelle Henderson and her family survived the invasion. Now, it's nothing but a memory. Or so Isabelle would like to think. But strange things are happening in Bucks County. Things that bring back memories. Memories that Isabelle would prefer to forget. And as she investigates, she discovers something-the past may not want to be forgotten..

7. Older than Remembered

Hey, everyone possibly reading this. :) Sorry this took so long, there's been a lot of stuff going on lately, but I've finally been able to update and updates should be coming more quickly from now on! Sorry it took so long! Enjoy Chapter 7!

The first thing I felt when I woke up was how warm it was. I pulled the blankets further around me, savouring the sensation. The tinge of light behind my eyelids told me it was morning, and I kept them closed. The sheets felt soft against my skin and my mind seemed to drift, thoughts drowsily bumping into one another.

I wriggled over on the mattress and my back brushed his skin, warm against mine. I felt Merrill's arm slide over my shoulder, pulling me against him, my head sliding under his chin.

It was then that my eyes opened and I smiled, turning to face him. His eyes were still closed and I let myself stare at him. I could hear my own breathing, and tried to slow it down, wanting to watch him longer, take him in the way I hadn't been able to for over two weeks. His eyelids were flickering in his dreams, and there were shadows under them, like faint bruises. His skin was paler than usual and my heart twisted as I thought of where he'd slept for the last two weeks. My hand lifted to his cheek, fingers dancing across his skin.

Merrill's eyes opened, his gaze meeting mine. "Hey." His voice was low, gentle and I closed my eyes, as his fingers danced across my skin, tracing my cheekbone gently, until the tip of one lingered on my lips.

"Hey." My own voice was a whisper and it was me who tilted my head, pulling him down so that my mouth opened against his, kissing him, gently at first before my hands slid into his hair, my fingers tightening as I held him to me, my hands tracing over his skin. The same heat as last night was running through me-different to the strange, overpowering feelings of the last weeks, followed by the draining exhaustion-this was just us, us holding each other, Merrill leaning back to stare at me, his eyes burning into mine.

I looked up at him, remembering last night when he'd been holding me, his skin against mine, his lips against my neck. I'd pressed my hands against his chest, and he'd pulled his mouth back, a small moan of frustration from his throat.

I'd looked at him. "I love you." For some reason, I'd wanted to say it again-perhaps because I hadn't said it for two weeks.

Merrill's eyes had locked with mine as he'd brought his mouth to mine again, leaving me gasping as he trailed his fingers over my skin. "I love you."

The words had echoed in my mind as he'd buried his face in my neck. I'd closed my eyes, leaning my forehead against his, almost holding my breath as I traced my fingers over his arms, his skin, everything about him I'd missed for the previous two weeks. His arms slid around me, bringing my mouth back to his, as I let my head fall back, Merrill's lips against mine, breathing him in.

Now, I looked at him, taking in the flush of his cheeks, the way the muscles in his shoulders corded against my fingertips. "I missed you." My voice was low as I pushed my hand through his hair.

Merrill's arms pulled me against him, his lips pressing a kiss to my head. "Missed you too."

I closed my eyes, his hand sliding under my chin. I was savouring the sensation of his arms around me, of the feeling of being intertwined like this.

Merrill's voice, when he spoke, tickled my skin. "I'm sorry, Izzy."

I opened my eyes. He pressed another kiss to my lips, his eyes wider now, as they looked into mine. "I'm sorry." His voice was barely a breath.

I slid my arms around him, brushing my lips across his chest. "Me too."

Merrill relaxed, pulling me against him. "I shouldn't have said it."

"I said stuff, too-"

"But I shouldn't-"

"Neither should I."

We looked at each other and then his lips broke into a small smile. I returned it. "Missed you" I whispered again, pulling myself against him.

Merrill winced as he pulled back.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, just-" His hand was rubbing his neck. "Got kind of cricked. Sleeping on the couch for two weeks. It's like sleeping on freaking bricks."

I felt a wave of guilt. "Here, turn round."

After a second, he did, and my hands moved to his shoulders. I rubbed at the skin gently, before one moved to his neck, massaging at the muscles there.

Merrill sighed, his head falling back after a few moments. "Merrill" I said, a second later.

"Yeah?"

"Do you believe me? About this stuff?"

He tensed for a moment, and I waited, wondering if it was going to kick off another fight. But then, he sighed and his hand moved to touch mine.

"I don't know." His voice was hesitant, and I waited again, one hand still gently massaging his skin.

"I guess-there's weird stuff going on." He turned round to face me then, his eyes suddenly serious. "What happened last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you came in. You said something chased you."

"Oh-" I tried to look away. "Nothing."

Merrill's hand slid under my chin. "What happened, Izzy?" His voice was soft and low and I swallowed, letting my eyes meet his.

I related the anecdote, feeling Merrill's arms tighten around me as I did so. He turned to face me, his eyes never moving from mine. "Jesus, Izzy." His hand was stroking my hair, as he pulled me closer, holding me tighter now. "Jesus, you could have been hurt."

There was nothing I could say to that since I knew he was right.

"I wasn't" I tried saying, my tone lighter now. I wrapped myself around him, pressing my lips to his shoulders. "Seriously, I wasn't, Merrill."

He swallowed hard. "This stuff-" His gaze met mine. "You really think there's something going on?"

I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. "Listen-" I planted a kiss on his cheek and pulled him back down to lie on the pillow. "I've got to tell you something."

With Merrill's eyes watching me, I related every weird thing that had happened over the previous two weeks that we'd been ignoring each other. When Devon's name came to my lips, his eyes flickered in confusion, but he didn't interrupt.

"And so I kind of knew him before last night" I finished. "But I guess it would have been kind of awkward to bring up."

Merrill nodded, his eyes clouded with thought. "That's-" He took a breath. "A lot of weird stuff to be coincidence."

It took a lot not to exhale with relief. "I know." My hand danced up his arm. "And it just-there's a lot of stuff going on." I looked away. "I know I shouldn't have dragged Morgan into it."

"No." I looked back in surprise. Merrill shrugged. "He's older, now. It was his choice. And he seems to be pretty into it."

I shrugged. "I guess. But maybe it's too much for him. He's only twelve."

Merrill smirked. "Don't let Morgan hear you say that."

I kissed him quickly, my hands braiding into his hair again. When I drew back, he was staring at me, his eyes serious again, the smile vanished from his mouth.

"I mean it" he said, his hand tracing my cheek. "I shouldn't have said-" He took a sharp inhalation, his eyes closing for a moment. "You know. About being screwed-up."

I winced at the reminder.

"I didn't mean it." His mouth moved over mine and I let my own lips part, kissing him back. His arms were warm and held me against his chest, his heart slamming against my ear.

"I know. I shouldn't have said you were stupid."

A flicker of pain crossed Merrill's face. "Sometimes, I-"

"Shh." I placed my finger to his lips. "You're not stupid, Merrill."

He opened his mouth and I shushed him again. "You're not."

Merrill rolled his eyes but he pressed his lips to my hair, anyway. "Love you, Izzy."

"Love you too."

I nestled against him, enjoying the feeling of his skin against mine. "Last night's the first time I haven't had nightmares in two weeks" I whispered. I could feel Merrill's laughter vibrating through his chest.

His hands slid into my hair and he brought his mouth back to mine. "Last night" he whispered, his words burning against my lips. "You kept saying you missed me."

"I did miss you." Merrill's mouth moved to my neck, his hands trailing over my skin. I couldn't think straight, with his hands dancing over my skin.

Merrill raised an eyebrow. "How much?" he whispered, before tilting his head to kiss me again. I closed my eyes, remembering the way he'd stared at me last night, the way it had felt when he'd gasped my name, his eyes locked with mine, and I'd held him to me, feeling like the world had stopped for a while, or like we were the only ones on it.

"I'll show you." My voice was a whisper and I felt Merrill's mouth smile against mine as he closed his eyes, and I kissed him back, losing myself in us for a while.

---

The first time Merrill had told me he loved me, we'd been sitting in his car and I still remembered the way he'd whispered to me, his arms wrapped around me, my head under his chin. I could still remember the words.

You're so beautiful.

I might not agree with you on that one.

You are beautiful. And stubborn, by the way. And you laugh a lot. More than you used to. And you're very, very smart. And you make me laugh...And I love you. I love you, Izzy.

I could still remember the look in his eyes, the burning look that had left me gasping, his lips hovering, inches from mine, my own whisper so close, I could almost taste him.

I love you, too. I love you, Merrill Hess.

We'd been kissing then, our mouths hot and hungry against each other, that gentle ferocity building between us, until we were holding each other so tightly that I could barely think straight. Merrill's arms pushed me back into the seat gently, his mouth fiercer on mine now. I'd closed my eyes, my arms holding him to me, marvelling in how close he was, the feeling of him against me. His hand had slid down and moved something and a second later, the seat had fallen down and we'd been lying back, Merrill's lips inches from mine, the car filled with the sound of our ragged breath. We'd never gotten this close to each other before. Merrill's eyes met mine and I looked back at him. I smiled, as my hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt, as my hands slid underneath onto his bare skin.

Merrill closed his eyes. A soft moaning sound escaped his throat and his eyes opened, his mouth meeting mine again. His fingers wandered slowly up and down my shirt, and I couldn't stop myself shivering with each touch.

I'd pulled his mouth down to mine then and he'd slid his arms around me, his legs intertwined with mine, his eyes wide now, seemingly blazing. My hands had slid over his skin, down over his stomach, to pause at the waistband of his jeans. I'd looked up at him then, asking silently with my eyes what he wanted. He nodded slowly, his own eyes wide, his cheeks flushed, his eyes darkened with desire.

His hands were moving back and forth over my skin. "God, Isabelle-"

His skin was hot under my fingers and he shuddered as I moved closer to him his eyes staring into mine, his hands holding me against him-

The car horn went off, like an emergency siren. Merrill half-fell on top of me, his arms wrapped around my neck. "Jesus Christ-"

The horn stopped. Merrill stared at me, his heart pounding against mine. Then, slowly, his lips broke into a smirk.

I felt my own smile broaden before I dissolved slowly into laughter, kissing his neck as I did so, feeling him follow suit, his head falling onto my shoulder, his own lips trailing over my neck. I pulled my head back to look at him, my arms sliding around his neck.

"Guess we shouldn't have tried this in a car" I whispered.

"Guess not." Merrill pressed another kiss to my lips. I looked up at him, his eyes looking into mine and then I made a decision.

"Graham's taken Morgan and Bo out tonight, hasn't he?" I asked, my fingers playing with Merrill's shirt.

Merrill frowned. "Yeah-some movie. Why?"

I looked at him. "Well, maybe we could go back to yours'. You know. The barn." I knew if Morgan and Bo were home, they'd want to see us, want us to spend time with them. But if they weren't home-

Merrill's lips were breaking into a slow smile. He pulled my mouth back to his for a fierce moment, before his eyes met mine, serious now. "Are you sure?"

I looked back at him, hand stroking his cheek, and smiled. "I'm sure" I whispered, before brushing my lips against his again.

I never saw Merrill drive that fast before.

I could remember the way he kissed me the second I was out of the car, the way my fingers knotted in his hair, the way his eyes looked as they focused on mine. His hands had been burning against my skin and I remembered the way he stopped halfway up the steps, our mouths crashing together again, as if there was something pulling us together like magnets.

It had been when we'd been lying on his bed inside, Merrill's hands running over my skin, that I'd said it again. "I love you" I'd whispered, pulling his mouth back to mine.

He'd swallowed, his eyes on my face. "I love you." The words had sounded sweet on his lips and I'd closed my eyes as he wound his arms around my neck, his skin soft against mine, until I'd thought it might be possible to die of pleasure.

It had been afterwards, when we'd been lying together, both of us gasping for breath, Merrill's head on my shoulder now, that I'd looked at him and traced the scar over his lip. "I love this" I'd whispered. "Don't know why. Just do."

Merrill had stared at me for a moment. "Izzy" he whispered and he tilted my mouth to his.

"I love you, Merrill" and I nestled my head against his skin, listening to his heart beat.

"Love you, Izzy." His voice was a whisper now as his fingers combed through my hair. "I love you."

I'd buried my face in his skin, my ear against his heart, both of us wrapping ourselves around the other, and the rest of the world had seemed to vanish for a while.

---

We stayed in bed the rest of the morning, my head on Merrill's chest, chatting lazily. I'd missed him the past two weeks, missed the way he combed his fingers through my hair, missed hearing his voice in my ear, missed everything. I drank in every detail of him, everything I'd missed so much.

"I missed this" I whispered, kissing him gently. "You don't know how many times I wanted to come out and kiss you."

Merrill's laughter was soft against my skin. "You wouldn't have had to say sorry, I'd have just walked in. I was tired of sleeping on the freaking couch."

I burst out laughing at that, my hands massaging his shoulders again. "God, I've missed you." I leant into his shoulder. "Don't ever want to fight with you again."

Merrill sniggered. "Two hours, and you'll be saying it's my turn to do the washing up."

"You know me well." I kissed him again and looked at him. "I should have told you more" I whispered. "I'm sorry."

Merrill shook his head. "I wasn't listening" he said simply, and then he kissed my hair, as I lay against him, my eyes closing again.

Even when we finally got up, we couldn't stop kissing. I wasn't sure why-it was as if we were trying to make up for a whole two weeks away from it. We literally seemed to spend half the day wrapped around each other. I wasn't complaining.

We spent the afternoon slumped in front of the TV, just flicking from channel to channel. I lay my head on Merrill's shoulder. It was only now that I had him back I realised how much I'd missed him.

Merrill's eyes were on the screen, but every so often I'd turn to find him staring at me. His hand moved to tuck the hair behind my ears.

"What?" I asked quietly, moving to touch his skin.

Merrill closed his eyes, then opened them again. "I've been thinking" he said, after a moment. "You know this stuff?"

"This stuff?"

"This-" Merrill waved his hand, as if that would properly illustrate the definition of "stuff". "You know, the weird stuff."

"Yeah?"

Merrill looked at me. "I'll help you."

I blinked. "What?"

"With the stuff you're trying to find out. I'll help you."

I stared at him. "Seriously?"

Merrill nodded. He looked away, his cheeks flushing slightly.

I slid my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his cheek. "Thanks, Merrill" I whispered.

Merrill's lips nuzzled at my hair. "What do you think we're going to find out?"

I shrugged. "No idea. I wish I did, but I've got nothing." I looked at him. "That doesn't mean I shouldn't look, though."

Merrill shook his head. "Anything else happened?"

I shook my head. "Nothing I haven't told you. And that's all."

"It's enough, though."

"Yeah." I nodded, leaning against him. "It's weird. And it's a hell of a lot to be a coincidence, Merrill."

Merrill nodded and looked at me. "I'll help you." His voice was a whisper.

I nodded. "And we have to phone Graham."

Merrill frowned. "Why?"

I shrugged. "'Cos I think we kind of wrecked his evening last night."

---

Graham listened to my apology quietly on the other end of the phone, though whenever he spoke, I thought I could detect a smirk in his voice, and I rolled my eyes. Couldn't he tell I was trying to apologize here?

"And so we just wanted to say-sorry." I nodded, as if Graham could see me. "Really sorry."

Merrill, watching me, nodded.

"Really sorry."

Merrill mimed bowing his head. I glared at him.

"Seriously, we didn't mean to ruin anything."

Merrill had his hand over his heart.

"And we weren't thinking."

At this point, Merrill actually mimed dropping to his knees and holding out his hands for forgiveness.

"And really, we-" I held the phone away from my ear and glared at Merrill. "Get up."

Merrill shook his head and knuckled at his eyes. I tried tugging at his arm. "Get up, Merrill."

Merrill stayed where he was so I was forced to kneel down next to him. "Merrill." I tried to make my voice sound stern. "Get up. Now."

Merrill slid his hands into my hair and tilted his mouth to mine. His lips were warm and soft. It was a lot harder to talk then.

It took a few moments for me to break away from him and turn back to the phone. "Sorry, Graham. I was-"

Merrill nudged his lips under my ear and I slapped at his hand. "Distracted."

It was a second before I heard Graham's voice. "Merrill, whatever it is you're doing, stop it."

A moment of silence and then Merrill and I burst out laughing.

---

"So you and Uncle Merrill aren't fighting anymore?" was how Bo chose to address the issue as we walked down the street that evening.

Merrill and I exchanged glances, as Bo turned to face us. Her lips were pursed, her eyes wide. On another kid, this look would have been unusual. On Bo, it was reassuringly normal.

"No, Bo." I chucked her under the chin with one hand. "We're not fighting anymore."

Merrill pressed a quick kiss to my hair. Morgan rolled his eyes. "Could you not?"

I shoved him in the shoulder and a small smile broke across his lips. Bo was still frowning up at us.

"So..you're not mad at each other anymore?" Bo's eyebrows knotted together.

"No." I took her hand, and her fingers fastened in mine for a moment.

Graham sighed "No, nobody's mad at each other, Bo."

Bo nodded, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Merrill kneel down and mutter something to Morgan. Morgan made no reply, though I saw him still suddenly and look at his uncle, gaze sharp.

Graham indicated a diner we'd eaten at a few times with a tilt of his head. "Here?"

A few glances around and accompanying nods later, we were stepping inside. Bo paused on the steps, fidgeting with something.

"Come on, Bo." Turning to look at her, I frowned. Wedged under her arm were several pieces of paper, and three pens, which she was struggling to adjust.

"Here." I knelt down, nodding to Merrill to go ahead with the others. "Why'd you bring all these anyway?"

"Wanted me to."

"What?" I looked at her, shifting the pieces of paper in my hand. "Who wanted you to?"

Bo shook her head. "Nobody."

I frowned. "Bo?"

She took the pieces of paper, shuffling them herself. "Nobody" she repeated. Her eyes were narrowed and the expression suddenly made her look older, little resembling the little girl I knew.

"OK." I stood up, holding out my own hand to her. My eyes flickered to the pieces of paper, but Bo had already pushed them under her arm, obscuring them from view under her coat.

"Here." I held out my hand absent-mindedly, my brain still ticking over Bo's sudden desire to be an artist.

When she didn't take my hand, I reached back, linking my fingers through hers'. "Come on, let's get in."

"I'm not a baby." Bo's hand was suddenly yanked out of mine-harder than I'd have expected.

I turned to stare at her. "I know you're not."

Bo's eyes were narrowed and her head was tilted to the side. She was glaring and it felt like a physical jolt. I'd never known Bo to glare at anyone since the day she was born.

"I don't need help." The voice-something about the voice-it was different. Older. Still Bo's voice but older.

I stood still, staring at her. The door had closed behind Merrill, Morgan and Graham and it was a cool fall evening-we were alone on the steps, and the street was mostly deserted. Watching Bo, and that look on her face, I wrapped my arms around myself. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I felt goosebumps sprout on my arms.

"Fine." My voice was cooler than I'd anticipated. "You don't need help. Come on."

I turned for the top of the steps, only to hear footsteps following a second later.

The next second, Bo's hand slid into mine. "Isabelle? Do you like to draw?"

I turned to stare at her. Bo's voice was perfectly normal again. Her eyes met mine, in an innocent upturned gaze-for all the world as if the previous few seconds had not occurred.

It was standing by the arcade machine in the corner of the family restaurant Graham had chosen that Merrill and I beckoned Morgan over, while Bo was instructing Graham on the correct number of strawberries she wanted in her milkshake.

"OK" Merrill said, out of the corner of his mouth. "I've told him."

I stared at him. "Is there a reason you're talking like this?"

Merrill nodded over at Graham.

Morgan snorted. "It feels like we're in a freaking spy movie, for Christ's sake."

I thought about reprimanding him for the language, but then figured that would be too hypocritical.

"Look, Merrill's told him-" I broke off at the sight of Merrill's eyes flickering back and forth. "Merrill, I don't think we need to case the joint."

"Look-" Morgan broke in before Merrill could retort. "Dad's going to be over here any second so what are we doing?"

I opened my mouth and then realised I didn't have an exact answer. What were we doing?

"Keeping an eye on Bo" I said, after a second. "And finding out what's going on."

Of course, that was easier said than done. We weren't scientists, we weren't NASA, and we were dealing with a little girl who may or may not be traumatized. It wasn't exactly an easy situation.

"How are we going to do that?"

I glanced over at the milkshake bar. Graham and Bo were almost done; Bo was scribbling away on that piece of paper.

"Right." I turned to Morgan and Merrill, deciding enough was enough. "Here's what we're going to do. Morgan, you're going to come by ours' after school next time Bo has a therapy appointment. You're going to come and you're going to bring Devon with you. That way we can all decide what to do."

Morgan blinked but before he could speak, I'd gone on. "Oh, and there's something you guys should know-"

I filled them in-as hurriedly as I dared-on Bo's little episode on the steps of the restaurant.

"I don't know what that was about" I said, taking another glance over and seeing that Graham and Bo were heading towards us. "I just thought it was weird."

Merrill nodded, but with the two of them heading over, there was little time to contribute an opinion.

Morgan was frowning as his father reached us. "Still strange" he muttered, too softly for Graham or Bo to hear.

"Ready?" said his father, lowering Bo to the ground. She ducked her head, her crayons still pressed to the paper.

As we turned to step over to a table, I watched Bo. She didn't look up from the paper once, her eyes focused on the page so intently, I wondered if she was about to fall into it. She was staring at it, her eyes wide, the crayon moving almost faster than her little hands would allow.

As if she sensed me watching her, Bo looked up suddenly, her eyes finding mine. I gave her a quick smile, and looked away.

But for another second Bo watched me, her eyes narrowed, her fingers clenched tight around the body of the crayon. Slowly, she turned her eyes back to the paper but every now and again, her gaze would dart back up to my face, that same quizzical tilt of the eyebrows, that same hunch over the paper.

If I didn't know better, I'd almost describe that gaze as suspicious.

---

It was three days later that our doorbell rang and I opened it to find Morgan and Devon standing outside.

"You said to come by" Morgan informed me, without preamble.

There could be no arguing with this sentiment so I stepped back to let them both in.

It was sitting in the living room, with the TV firmly off, Morgan and Devon slouched on the couch and Merrill sitting next to me, that I swallowed. "OK" I said, after a long moment of silence. "What are we going to do?"

Morgan shrugged. "I thought you guys knew."

"OK." I pushed my hair behind my ears, then tugged a folded square of paper out from inside my pocket. "I've made a list."

Merrill stared at me. "You actually made a list?"

I glared at him. "Yes."

Merrill rolled his eyes, which I ignored. Devon sniggered and received an elbow in the ribs from Morgan.

"OK." I peered at the list. "So we've got the weird coma stuff, the birds, Ray Reddy, the Ray Reddy duplicate-"

"Wait." Morgan leaned forward, his eyes suddenly narrowed. "The what?"

I sighed and launched into a quick explanation.

"I mean, it could just have been a trick of the light" I said, after a moment. "But we both thought we saw it. And it was his truck."

Morgan winced momentarily.

I opened my mouth but he was already speaking again. "OK. The truck, and everything, I get that. What else?"

I swallowed. "Bo. Obviously. And-"

I peered at Merrill but thought it best to say, anyway. "Well, people arguing and stuff. We wondered if that could be an effect."

Morgan tilted his head to one side. "You mean, like you two?"

I scowled at him. "Thanks, Morgan."

Morgan shrugged. "Well, you have been."

Merrill pushed his hand through his hair. "Look, I get that it's weird. But what are we-" He pointed round at all of us individually. "Meant to do about it?"

Everyone looked at me. I wished they'd waited until I could have got hold of Hannah. This was something that involved her, too.

I sighed. "That's the point. It's difficult. I mean-" I looked up. "Do you think we should tell Graham?"

"No" said Merrill, barely blinking. "It'll be like last time. He'll keep saying there's nothing wrong until the last minute."

Morgan was nodding. "Uncle Merrill's right. Dad won't believe us. He's too worried about Bo."

I shrugged. "OK, who do we talk to?"

It took several moments of thinking, before Devon unexpectedly piped up. "We could talk to Hannah." When we all looked at him, he shrugged. "I mean, she was there that day, looking for the tyre tracks-"

I nodded. "Yeah. And we could ask Carl." I scribbled that on the piece of paper. Merrill sniggered. "Shut up, this could come in useful."

I sat up. "Carl'll help. He's obsessed with this stuff, anyway. He'll be fine helping us out."

I leaned my chin on my hands. "Apart from that-what can we do?"

"Wait?" Devon suggested, somewhat unhelpfully. "Just wait until something else happens."

"I don't think that's enough, though." I drummed the pencil against the table. "I wish we knew what was going to happen. That way, we'd know what we're up against."

"Well-" Merrill had scooped up a handful of chips from the bowl on the table. "We know they hate water."

"If it's them."

Merrill frowned, cramming the chips into his mouth. "Who else would it be?"

I twisted the pencil between my fingers. "Well-there's been no signs in the crops" I pointed out, after a moment. "Not like last time."

Merrill shrugged. "So, they worked on their strategy."

I shook my head slowly. "Doesn't seem right, somehow. Seems kind of-"

"Unusual" Morgan interjected. "Unexpected."

I nodded. "But at the same time-"

Morgan had frowned and was tilting his hand back and forth. "It's unlikely. I mean, that there'd be two paranormal whatevers happening in the space of, like, a year? That's unlikely."

I had to agree.

"So-" I said, pushing my hands through my hair. "It's either them come back or-"

My voice, with its' attempt at a light tone, trailed off.

"Guess we just have to wait" said Morgan, apparently correctly interpreting my silence.

"Maybe we could read up on some of this stuff?" I suggested, a last-ditch idea that could prepare us a little. "You know, some of the weird stuff that's been going on-"

"What, like dead birds?"

I envisioned us typing "dead birds aliens" into Google.

"And other stuff." I avoided Merrill's eyes. "Come on."

I realised I was attempting to make the idea of research appeal to two teenage boys. Hercules had probably had a better chance when he set out on his twelve tasks.

Surprisingly, it was Devon who sighed. "OK." When I looked up, he held up his hands. "OK. It's a good idea. We could check out what some of this stuff means."

Morgan shrugged. "It's worth a try, I guess."

I sighed. "Well, it's all we've got to do."

Merrill laid his head back on his hands. "Fantastic. Research."

I elbowed him. "If it helps, will you still be saying that?"

Merrill tilted his head and closed his eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Actually...yeah."

I picked up a chip and threw it at him. Merrill caught it in his mouth with a grin.

Morgan watched us impassively, while Devon sniggered. "And so it begins."

---

Doing research into paranormal phenomena was not as easy as it sounded.

It didn't even sound particularly easy.

Firstly, there was the simple yet undeniable fact that even as birds dropped dead around the world and Bo retreated further into her world of silence, real life didn't simply stop around us. Morgan and Devon had to continue attending school, Merrill had a job and Hannah and I were ostensibly serious about leaving graduate school with high grades, even if that was starting to feel less important compared with the idea of the end of the world. Still, the two of us spent as much time as we could in the library, looking up any occurrences of strange events in the last thirty years or so.

After several afternoons of this, Hannah sighed, letting her head fall against my shoulder. "You think if we keep this up for the next year or so, we'll find something out?"

"If we're not blown off the face of the planet, it's a distinct possibility." I sighed, pushing my hands through my hair. "The one thing I can find is this stuff on the birds."

I clicked through and Hannah peered at the screen, eyes narrowed. "Birds are considered bad luck?"

"Not all birds" I countered. "Just some. Like ravens. Crows. That kind of stuff."

"Right." Hannah pushed her hair behind her ears, auburn strands spilling through her fingers. "Omens of bad fortune. Can't get cosier than that."

"Where'd you get the idea beheaded birds are supposed to be cosy?" I stared at the screen. A picture of a bird hovered there, eyes narrowed, almost as if I'd caused it some kind of ornithological offence.

Hannah nodded. "Touche. What the hell do we do with that, though?"

I looked back. "Well, there have been links of ravens and crows to death and stuff. But it's old wives tales, you know-it's stuff that isn't scientific."

Hannah shrugged. "Is any of this scientific?"

I paused for a moment, unsure how to answer. "As scientific as stuff like this can be."

But Hannah raised a good point-how could I be sure that what we were reading had any connection to the events at all? How could I even be sure any of it was accurate?

Morgan had the same concern.

"Seriously" he said to me, as he and Devon walked beside me on the way home that afternoon. Hannah and I had waited for them at the school bus stop, and Morgan was dragging his bag along the ground, the material snagging on various stones as he tugged at the strap. "What if none of this has anything to do with aliens?"

I shrugged. "Do you think that's the case?"

Morgan was silent for a moment. "Nope" he admitted, after a moment. "But I don't think everything adds up either."

"Like what?"

It was Devon who spoke next. "Like the fact that just because we can find out what this stuff might be, it might not mean we know what's going on."

"How'd you figure?" This was Hannah, her eyes narrowed, her head tilted to the side.

Devon shrugged. "I don't know. But just because we know what something is, doesn't mean you can protect yourself from it."

Something about the way he said the words, the tilt of his head, the furrow of his brows made my gaze linger on him for a second. But his words nagged in my brain.

"We've got a better chance" I argued. "I mean, if we know what we're up against."

But I had to admit, the argument felt weaker than usual, and when I leant my head against Merrill's shoulder that night, there must have been something in my expression because the first words out of his mouth were "What happened?"

I opened my mouth, preparing myself to explain to him the whole thing-the whole thing about how researching something didn't necessarily mean you could fight it. It was like a cancer-you could find out everything possible, harness every possible defence, but ultimately, it might just be down to chance.

And instead of saying all that, I started to cry.

I don't know who was more shocked, Merrill or I. Merrill's jaw dropped for a second before his arms slid around my shoulders. "Izzy?"

I tried to hold my breath, to stop the sobs but more tears came out. Merrill pulled me closer, letting my head rest under his chin. "Izzy, Izzy-" His voice trailed off as his hand slid into my hair. "Izzy, what's happened?"

I shook my head, my eyes opening and closing. I slid my hands into his hair. Merrill's voice echoed in my ears. "Izzy, talk to me."

With an effort, I sat upright, looking him in the eye. "I don't know-" I choked out. "I don't even know why I'm crying."

Merrill blinked in confusion but pulled me close again anyway, letting me fall against him. His arms came around me and his lips nuzzled into my hair. He shushed me quietly as I cried into his shirt, my hands stroking across his skin.

It took a while before I calmed down, sniffing before I looked up to meet his gaze. "Sorry" I whispered. "I don't even know-I'm sorry-"

"Shhh." Merrill stroked my hair. "You don't have to be sorry."

"I don't know what's wrong with me" I whispered. "I don't know why I'm crying."

Merrill looked at me, his eyes travelling over my face. "You're stressed" he informed me. "You're stressed out, Izzy. Look at all this." He gestured to the computer, and the myriad of books spread over the table. "You're doing too much."

I looked away from him. "I know."

"Just leave it for tonight." Merrill's lips were soft against my cheek. I looked at him. "What if-"

Merrill shook his head. "It's ten at night. Leave it, Izzy."

When I didn't move, he slid his arms around me, lips stroking my hair. "One night won't make any difference." His voice was soft in my ear. "This isn't your fault."

It was only then that I loosened my hold on the papers, letting my head slump onto Merrill's shoulder. I felt my eyes close and was vaguely aware of Merrill pressing kisses to my hair, gently stroking my skin as I drifted in and out of sleep. It was only when I was almost asleep that I felt him lift me up and gently carry me towards the bedroom, where he lay me down on the bed, tucking the covers over me, and that was the last thing I remembered before I drifted off.

---

On Merrill's advice, I started easing off slightly on the workload of paranormal research and encouraged Morgan and Devon to do the same. Bo's silence was continuing but she'd always been quiet, and with the lack of any reappearances of birds, strange shadows or anything else disturbing, an uneasy peace seemed to be reigning throughout Bucks County. It was something I wanted to take advantage of.

Which was the main reason Hannah and I were sitting in a diner this evening. Hannah was eating fries, I was debating the various merits of Harry Potter with her ("Of course Hermione'll choose Ron in the end. She and Harry are like brother and sister, for pity's sake.") and we were both tucking into burgers like we hadn't eaten in three weeks. In short, we were having a better night than either of us had had in a while.

"When's Darren going to be back, then?"

Hannah smiled, her eyes lighting up. For someone who claimed not to have any real feelings for him, she seemed pretty happy when it seemed he might be around. "Two weeks."

"How's his band doing?" I could never remember what Darren's band were called, due to the fact they seemed to change their name more often than my essay titles.

"They're good." Hannah took another sip of her milkshake. "But Darren's looking forward to being home. He said being on tour's hard."

This statement would have had more effect if Darren's tour had lasted longer than four weeks.

Still, Darren made Hannah smile and given everything that had been going on lately, that could only be a good thing.

"He did mention something, though."

"What?"

Hannah glanced about, as if a camera may emerge from under the table somewhere, and then leaned closer. "He said there's been-weird stuff going on."

My heart sank. Literally sank. I wouldn't have been surprised if it dropped through my ribs. "What weird stuff?"

Hannah shrugged and leaned back. "I don't know. Just stuff. Weird noises at night, shadows, that kind of thing."

Wonderful. I took another bite of the burger I could no longer taste.

Hannah seemed to read my mind. "Isabelle-" She sighed. "I wouldn't worry about it. Darren often says weird things happen on tour. It's just-what happens when you're away."

Yeah, but usually, weird things weren't happening at home as well, is what I thought but didn't say.

I turned back to my burger. "Yeah, well, Bo's still quiet but she seems-better" I said, after a moment. I searched for a better word to describe the slightly ominous silence that seemed to be hanging around Bo at the moment but decided that "better" was the only word I could summon.

Hannah tucked her hair behind her ears again. "It's been a week. Maybe it's dying down?"

Somehow, that seemed too optimistic to hope for.

I moved my hand over my wrist, fingers closing over my skin, and then winced. Hannah, ever the sharp-eyed one, noticed. "What?" she said.

"Just these." I yanked up my sleeve and Hannah's eyes widened. "Holy hell."

The three scars on my arm, where the alien's hand had caught my skin over eighteen months ago, were red raw and throbbing. I stared at them. They'd been slightly redder recently but nothing like this. I swallowed.

"Didn't expect that" I said, struggling to make my voice sound light.

Hannah swallowed. "God, was it like that before?" She reached out, letting her finger brush over the marks cautiously.

I winced and pulled back. "Nope. Just red. But they've been kind of-burning lately."

Hannah stared at me. "You told Merrill?"

I looked away. "Nope. We've only just stopped fighting, I don't want to start stressing us out again."

"Isabelle." Hannah leaned forward to stare at me. "I hate to disturb this charming little way you have of trying to keep every problem in your life to yourself, but hey, reality just phoned. This could be freaking important."

I pushed my hands over my eyes. "Look, I know. But how the hell do I say it to him? "Hey, Merrill, look, I think it's something trying to tunnel its' way through my arms."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "You still need to tell him. It could just be an allergic reaction, or something."

I raised an eyebrow and she nodded her head. "Yeah, OK. OK."

I stared down at the table. "I don't know what to do" I said. There was a dull ache in my chest as I admitted it, my head leaning on my hands. I lifted my gaze to stare at Hannah. "I still don't know what to do."

Hannah looked at me for a moment before she reached across to touch my shoulder. "This isn't your fault."

"I know that. It's just-" I swallowed. "Something's not right" I said slowly. "I mean, more than this. Something just isn't right. I mean, generally."

Hannah nodded slowly. "I know. Isabelle-you need to talk to Merrill."

"Why are you so keen on that, all of a sudden?"

Hannah swallowed and then watched me for a moment. "Because I don't think you should keep this to yourself."

By the time we stepped outside, the wind was picking up. I frowned up at the sky. "Jesus, what the hell's happening with this?"

From being chilly but fairly calm earlier in the day, with the onset of darkness, the evening had turned stormy, with leaves flying through the air. If I hadn't known better, I'd have guessed we were in for a blizzard.

Hannah stared up at the sky, shaking her head. "No idea. Hope it doesn't kill us, though."

A thought sprang up at the back of my head, a spike of suspicion, but I pushed it back down. "Yeah" I echoed Hannah, glancing about. "Hopefully."

Driving home took all of my concentration. By the time I reached the parking space, the wind was roaring around the apartment building and when I climbed out of the car, I felt the door wrenched out of my grasp. It was like Armageddon but stormier.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped inside the hallway and slumped against the door, pushing it closed behind me. I took a step towards the stairs, as I heard the door open down the hallway.

"It's OK, Mrs. Longdon" I called, taking a moment to look at her. "I'm fine."

"You can't be too careful." She was glancing at the windows as if one might implode suddenly. With all the other weird stuff, that would have been slightly less surprising.

"Guess not" I said, after a moment. The landlady was still staring at me, with her head tilted cautiously to one side.

"You're OK, aren't you, Isabelle?"

"What?"

"You and Merrill?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. Why?"

Mrs. Longdon stared at me and then shook her head slowly. "Oh. No reason." She retreated slowly back down the corridor towards her own apartment, the door closing slowly behind her.

I stared at the door, wondering if it was just me or if everyone in Bucks County seemed to be going stark raving insane recently. Maybe that was the cause of everything weird.

I turned to the stairs, taking each step cautiously, wondering if it was about to give out underneath me. With everything else that had been going on, it wouldn't have been a surprise.

"Home" I called, pushing the door open. Merrill was sitting on the couch, engrossed in a sports show, but he turned round when he heard the door open.

"How was it?"

"I got blown away and you're looking at a ghost."

"That would explain why I can't do this, then." Merrill tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, before brushing his lips across mine. I let my head fall onto his shoulder for a minute, breathing him in.

"Mrs. Longdon was asking if we were OK" I whispered in his ear. "Told her we were fine. Don't know if she's paranoid."

Merrill shrugged. "Maybe it's just the weird stuff getting to her."

I leaned against him. "Maybe." My arm throbbed painfully, reminding me of Hannah's words in the diner and I winced, both at the physical pain and at the thought of telling him.

Still, I leaned back and looked at him. "Need to show you something."

Merrill's eyes narrowed, his hand moving to my hair. "What?"

Slowly, keeping my eyes on his, I rolled up my sleeves. Merrill's eyes, which had been watching me curiously a second earlier, now widened, his hand closing around my wrist. "Jesus-"

"It's not as bad as it looks" I hastened to point out. "It just stings a bit."

"Jesus, Izzy-" Merrill traced each line with his fingers. "This is from where-"

"It grabbed me last time" I said, looking determinedly in the opposite direction. "Yeah."

Merrill bent down and pressed his lips against the line, tracing each scar with his mouth. I closed my eyes, letting myself shiver, sink into the sensation.

Merrill raised his head, eyes locking with mine. "Izzy-" His arm slid around my shoulders as he steered me towards the sink. "Maybe if we run water over it or something-"

Somehow, I didn't think that was going to change things much, but I let him try anyway. Maybe letting him try was enough.

---

The next morning, we learnt the true extent of the storm damage.

"Twelve trees ripped down" muttered Merrill, as we stared at the TV screen in Graham's living room. "Three cars wrecked..."

I leaned against his shoulder, as Morgan stared at the screen intently next to me.

The storm had lasted through the night and neither of us had got much sleep as a result. I'd spent the night lying with my head on Merrill's chest, occasionally worrying aloud that the roof might cave in or the trees outside might fall down and smash through the ceiling, consequently killing us all. Merrill had suffered these night time worries with a raised eyebrow and whispered reassurances before taking it upon himself to distract me by tracing kisses down my neck and jaw, his fingers stroking my skin until I lifted my mouth to his and after a while, any fears about the storm were forgotten with my mind absorbed with something very different.

"What the hell's going on?" was Morgan's proclamation on the matter now.

I looked at him. "Why?"

"'Cos it's worldwide, that's freaking why."

If Graham had been in the room, Morgan would have been grounded for three weeks. As it was, it was Bo who lifted her head to quietly remark "You're not meant to say that word."

"I know" replied Morgan rather flippantly, though I noticed the slight widening of his eyes-evidently, he was as surprised as Bo's sudden venture into speech as I was, especially after so many days of silence.

Bo stuck her thumb in her mouth and then turned back to her colouring. I glanced at her, and then, turning to Morgan, whispered "Has she been to school this week?"

Morgan shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but it was then that I heard Bo's voice. "I'm in the room, you know."

I spun round. Something about Bo's eyes, narrowed to slits, something about the curl of her lip-the expression was much older than her face, and Morgan did a double take.

"I can hear you." Bo's fists were clenched. "I can hear you."

I winced. I knew I'd just done the exact thing I had hated most as a child-spoken about someone as if they weren't in the room, as if age rendered you somehow deaf. "Bo, I'm sorry-"

"I know." It didn't sound as if Bo was responding to the apology. She stood up, her eyes fixed on mine and a thrill of something shot over my skin-something like fear, electricity, something about the look in her eyes-it felt like a physical blow.

"I know" she said again and this time, her words were accompanied by the sound of paper being crumpled in her palm. She turned towards the door then, ignoring the movements of Merrill and I as we reached for her.

Graham appeared in the doorway, then, only to be greeted by the sight of his daughter pushing past him. "Hey-" He swallowed, his words cut off by the sight of her retreating back. He turned to the rest of us, all of whom were staring at the doorway.

The sound of Bo's footsteps up the stairs was quickly ended by the unmistakeable sound of the bedroom door slamming shut. Merrill winced, and Morgan glanced at me nervously.

Graham stared from one to the other. "Anyone like to tell me what's going on?"

---

Several minutes later, I found myself hovering outside Bo's bedroom door and I felt an uncanny sense of deja vu wash over me. I'd been in this situation so many times as a child-only I'd always been the one on the other side of the door.

"Bo?" I tapped on the door. "Can I come in?"

There was silence. I tapped again. "Bo?"

There was a small noise from inside which I took as a murmur of assent. I pushed open the door slowly, not entirely sure what I expected to find.

But the room looked innocuous enough at first-Bo was stretched out on her bed, colouring in. Her eyes remained on the page, apparently absorbed in her activity.

I took a step into the room. "Hey" I said, cautiously. I half-wondered if Bo would turn around and bite me.

Bo didn't say anything. She didn't even look up. Just kept staring at the piece of paper, as if she might fall into it. Her hand moved back and forth over and over, in one repeated motion.

"Bo?"

There was no answer.

I sat down on the bed next to her and reached out to touch her shoulder. "What are you drawing?"

"Don't!" Bo yanked away as violently as if I'd touched her with a live wire.

I held up my hands. "OK, OK."

Bo stared at me for a long moment, before turning back to her piece of paper.

"Bo?" I could feel the bite of impatience in my tone and swallowed it down with some effort. "Bo, sweetheart?"

Bo stopped colouring.

"Bo, about downstairs?"

Bo put down her felt tip.

"Bo-"

It took a long moment before Bo turned to look at me again.

"Bo, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" I sighed. "I didn't mean to patronize you."

Bo frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means-it means act like someone else is stupid. I'm sorry. I was just worried about you."

Bo stared at me, her lips puckered.

"I didn't mean it."

Bo was still watching.

"I promise."

Bo looked at me for another moment-and then, slowly, nodded.

I reached out, cautiously and brushed her hair with my fingers. She swallowed and turned over.

"Are you OK?"

Bo nodded. "Just colouring."

"Can I see?"

Bo shook her head but less vehemently this time. She made sure to slide her hand over the page, however.

I nodded. "OK. But-" I slid off the bed. As I did so, I caught a glimpse of what looked like a sprawled stick figure on the page. "We're downstairs if you need us."

Bo didn't say anything and I took this as a signal to head to the door.

It was only when I was outside the room, the door half-closed behind me, that I thought I heard a voice. "Why would I need you?"

It was Bo's voice but thinner, whispery-almost like a dream. I stood still for a moment, then took another step. But the voice echoed in my head, persistent but thin enough to be mistaken for imagination.

It was back downstairs, with Morgan standing in the kitchen, peering out at the rain that he said "Did you find out anything else?"

I glanced around to make sure that Graham was out of earshot, and then shook my head. "No."

Morgan sighed. "Me neither. Apart from that this stuff's been happening all over the country."

"What stuff? The storms?"

Morgan nodded. "But that could mean anything, right?" He looked at me almost hopefully. "It doesn't mean, like, anything bad."

I shook my head. "Course not." My voice was determinedly light and cheerful but on the inside, I felt anything but.

Morgan stared at me sceptically, one of his eyebrows arched. "She hasn't been to school this week" he informed me. "And she hasn't been talking much either."

"When's her next session with Elizabeth?"

Morgan shrugged. "Next week or something. Though she won't be going if it's like this." He gestured outside to the weather, and the wind accordingly picked up, throwing itself against the house like a kitten in a bag.

I sighed, pushing my hands through my hair. "I don't know what's going on" I admitted to him. "I don't know what we're going to do."

Morgan's head tilted to the side as he regarded me quizzically and it had just occurred to me that maybe I should be confiding in someone other than my twelve year old nephew about this, when he said "Tell me that Ray Reddy story again."

"What, the one where Merrill and I ran into the guy who looked like him on the road?"

"The guy who was him" Morgan reminded me.

I bit my lip and Morgan raised an eyebrow. "You said you were sure."

"I am sure" I sighed, tucking my hair behind my ears. "It's just that it sounds unlikely when you think about it."

"You're talking to the kid who was grabbed by an alien."

"That's true." I looked at him. "OK-"

I recounted the story again to Morgan, who seemed to listen attentively this time. He swallowed when I was done.

"And that's it" I finished somewhat lamely. I stared at Morgan who was looking at me with a quizzical expression. "What?"

Morgan blinked and then shook his head. "Nothing, just-just some story that Devon found online-"

"Wait a second." I caught his arm. "What story?"

Morgan sighed. "OK. We were looking at this forum about people who've experienced paranormal activity and stuff, and basically there was this one guy and he was talking about something that happened like a month ago with this girl he knows who's in a coma."

"He knows someone in a coma?"

"Yeah." Morgan nodded, one hand waving as he talked. "Anyway, he said that he was driving the other evening and he was pretty convinced he saw her. Or her car. For a moment." When I looked unconvinced, Morgan added "But he was pretty sure it was her at the wheel."

I swallowed. "And what happened?"

"He tried to catch up with her and she sped away."

I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering that day on the road. Ray Reddy's face. Ray Reddy's eyes, locked with mine.

I'd known it was him. Now, I was sure.

"OK." I looked at Morgan. "Thanks, Morgan."

"Isabelle?"

I turned to stare out of the window, avoiding his eyes. "Yes, Morgan?"

I wasn't looking but I could feel his gaze on me, eyes narrowed, the look like a bullet. "Do you think we're going to be OK?"

I opened my mouth automatically to say yes, of course we were going to be OK, why wouldn't we be. But then, I turned to look at him and my eyes met his. He stared up at me, his eyes narrowed, and I was struck by something as I looked at him-something about his face, his features, something odd that hadn't been there before.

I looked at him for a long moment and then very quietly said "I don't know, Morgan."

His expression didn't change. Instead, he just nodded. And as he turned to leave the kitchen, I realised what I'd noticed-his face was longer, thinner, his eyes more shadowed. He'd lost the baby fat that had always clung to his cheeks. He looked older than I remembered.

---

"If we die here" was Merrill's remark as we drove down the road, the storm tearing at the air around us. "I hope Graham knows what to do with our stuff."

I stared through the glass at the storm outside. "Thanks for the vote of optimism, Merrill."

Merrill reached out, stroking my hair back behind my ears. I couldn't suppress a smirk, though it vanished again just as quickly when I thought about my conversation with Morgan in the kitchen.

"It's still freaky" I said, now, turning to look at Merrill. "This stuff that's going on. It's weird."

"I know it's weird, Izzy. I'm pretty sure the whole freaking world knows it's weird."

I sighed. "Yeah, I know. It's just-Morgan saying that-" I'd already told Merrill the whole story of Morgan and Devon's forum experience.

Merrill swallowed. "I don't know what the hell to do next."

I'd have argued but I was basically in the same place.

"We can't tell Caroline. There's nothing she can do."

"I can picture it." Merrill raked his hand through his hair. "Hey, Caroline, there's some aliens over our house. Can you come and help us? "Well, I'm comin' on down there, Merrill, I'm goin' shoot some aliens with my gun-""

I swatted him in the arm as the car stuttered as though it had been shot. Merrill rolled his eyes. "OK, God, I didn't mean it-"

The car stuttered again, this time seeming to shudder. I stared down at my seat. "Either we're breaking down or you really pissed someone off just now."

Merrill snorted, yanking at the wheel. The car didn't move.

Merrill stared at it, as if it might fly off and out of the window. "OK, that shouldn't be happening."

I was about to comment that that was fairly obvious when the car suddenly lurched to the side.

"OK, that's not normal."

"Nice observation." I was staring at the door like it was about to fall off. "Merrill, something's wrong-"

"Yeah, Izzy, I know something's wrong-"

That was when the car lurched again, and I thanked God that the roads of Bucks County were mostly deserted. "Jesus Christ, Merrill-"

Merrill grabbed hold of the wheel and yanked it as hard as possible. This had no effect whatsoever.

"That whole dying thing's looking a lot more likely-"

Merrill gave me a look that suggested now was not the right time for humour. "Jesus-" He yanked at the wheel again.

That was when the car spun. Actually spun.

My seatbelt yanked tight against my skin, holding me in my seat. Merrill, at this point apparently deciding that manners weren't going to work, slammed his fist into the wheel and informed it that he would render the car serious damage if it did not work, using rather imaginative vocabulary.

The car apparently did not listen to this, as it spun again. All I could think was that if we got blown sky high, I really hoped Mrs. Longdon didn't convince herself we'd been bombed or something.

"Izzy-" Merrill's face was paler now, and he turned to look at me. "Izzy, I don't know how to stop this thing."

I looked at him and swallowed. "Merrill-"

The car lurched again. I stared at the wheel. "What the hell is going on?"

Even as I spoke the words, the car's wild motions suddenly died down. I stared at it. "I don't believe this" I said, my voice low. "I don't believe-"

The car went still, the engine dying quietly. If I hadn't been present for the last five minutes, I wouldn't have believed anything had happened at all.

Merrill reached cautiously for the key in the ignition. I stared at him. "Merrill, don't-"

He turned the key and the engine roared into life. He twisted the wheel and the car moved forward, as normally as it ever did.

Merrill turned to stare at me. "What the hell just happened?"

I shook my head. "I don't-" I stared at the car as if the answer might spell itself out on the windshield.

Merrill was staring at me, as he pushed the car into gear. "Let's get home."

I reached out. "Merrill, wait-"

Merrill shook his head. He pushed his foot onto the pedal and the car rolled forward. I clung to my seat the entire way home, waiting for something else to go wrong, something else to violently unseat me, but the car functioned calmly as usual the entire way. I should have been relieved. But instead, all I could think of was pre-tremors-the quivers that took place before an earthquake, the first signs people often overlooked, that could foreshadow a coming disaster.

---

It was a few days later that I got the phone call from Hannah.

"Darren's coming back a few days late."

I frowned. "Any particular reason?"

"Yeah. Something about cars breaking down."

I froze. I glanced across to the bedroom door before carefully carrying the phone into the bathroom. I didn't want Merrill to hear this.

"What do you mean, cars breaking down?"

Hannah sighed. "It was pretty weird. Apparently, the other night, the car just broke. Like, completely broke down. They couldn't get it under control or anything, it just kept spinning about, it was completely bizarre."

"Where-where were they?" My voice sounded tight in my throat, as though I'd just knotted rope around the words.

"Not sure." Hannah sounded vaguely suspicious now. "Just in the fields somewhere, Darren said."

I closed my eyes and pushed my hands through my hair.

"Isabelle?" Hannah's voice had risen slightly, both in pitch and volume.

"Look-" I launched into the explanation of what had happened to Merrill and I the day before.

Hannah listened in near silence for the entire story until she finally drew in a breath. "That sounds-bad."

Thank you so much, Hannah. I felt bitchy even as I thought the words. It wasn't Hannah's fault this was going on.

"Look-" Hannah sucked in a breath. "It just feels-"

I waited.

"Weird. Waiting for something to happen like this. It's scary."

"It feels like-" I tugged at the phone wire. "Like something constantly hanging over my head. Like something waiting to happen."

"Exactly." Hannah sighed and I pictured the way she was standing, head tilted to the side, the way she always did when something troubled her. "It's hard to know what to do."

I bit my lip. "I think...I might know something."

Hannah's voice was suddenly sharp. "What?"

"Something we could do."

---

"I need to borrow your book" I told Morgan without preamble.

Morgan blinked, leaning forward. "That's what you've given me and Devon a ride home for?"

"Yep." I looked at him. "Did you look through it?"

Morgan shifted uneasily in his seat and I felt a wave of pity. He was only twelve-I shouldn't be dumping all this on him.

It was Devon who spoke. "We've been busy. We've got homework and stuff, you know."

I looked at him in the rearview mirror. He was watching me with a tilt to his chin, his eyes narrowed and I saw him glance at Morgan briefly. By rights, I should have been infuriated but something about the expression made me smile.

"Look" I said, instead, turning around to face Morgan."It's OK. But can I just borrow the book?"

Morgan lifted his eyes to mine. And this time, he nodded.

---

Morgan's room had changed since he'd first moved into it. The maps that used to litter his walls had been taken down, the rocketship bedcovers replaced. As he crawled under the bed, his head disappearing from view, I took a surreptitious look around, wondering what else might vanish when I wasn't watching.

"Here" Morgan said a second later, emerging victorious with the book in his hands. "Haven't looked at it in a couple of weeks-"

I took it, flicking through the pages. "Thanks, Morg-" My voice trailed off as I caught sight of a line on his arm. "Hey, what's that?"

Morgan frowned and his own gaze dropped to his skin. "It's the scar. You know, where it grabbed me."

I stared at him."I never noticed it before."

Morgan was examining his skin with some curiosity now. Devon stepped forward and took Morgan's wrist in between his own hands, his eyes narrowed. "Me neither."

"It's usually really pale" Morgan pointed out. "But it's got really red, for some reason." He shrugged, and so did Devon. "Maybe it's infected or something."

I stared at him, and swallowed hard. Behind my eyes, hovered an image of my own arm. Three long red scars, inflamed, scored into my skin, as clear as if they'd been marked yesterday.

A hand, digging into my arm. Claws, scraping back flesh, blood lines dripping down.

"Maybe" I said slowly.

---

Given it was getting late, and no matter how he acted, Devon was only thirteen, I thought it was within my range of adult responsibilities to offer him a lift home. Morgan offered to come along, but my reminder of homework ended that idea and after promising about fifty times that I would say nothing to Devon that could endanger his and Morgan's friendship, my nephew reluctantly agreed to let me drive his friend home.

Devon, for his part, after offering me a quick "Thanks for the ride" as he climbed into the truck, had lapsed into a slightly uncomfortable silence, which I'd have been stupid not to expect. Whenever I took a quick glance at him, in between staring intently through the windshield, I'd sometimes see his head turn quickly as he looked away, his eyes darting back and forth. But when I turned my gaze back to the road, I'd sometimes feel Devon's eyes on me, sense him fidgeting out of the corner of my eyes.

"Hey" I said, after a second. "Where did Devon come from?"

Devon blinked. "Huh?"

"The name. Does it mean anything?"

Devon shrugged. "Don't think so. Mom just said it reminded her of the beach or something."

"Devon in England?"

"Think so. She always wanted to go to England but she and my dad could never afford it."

"Your dad?" I knew enough about the Pritchard family to know that ironically, their father had been a friend of Graham's for years-a factor that had led to many awkward conversations between our families, during the days Lionel and I had spent in school together.

"Yeah, my dad." Devon slid down in his seat a little.

I frowned. I knew from what Graham had said that Devon's parents had gotten divorced a while back but hadn't really connected what effect, if any, that would have had on him. Until recently, I'd been used to thinking of the Pritchards, apart from Lee, as collective trouble, a group of people who seemed to exist to cause misery for others. I'd never really wondered what Devon would be like until I'd been forced to actually meet him.

"That who you and Lionel live with?"

Devon tensed and looked away. "Yeah."

I frowned. "That must be tough on you. Being away from your mom."

"Not really. It's better like this."

I looked at him. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "People who fight all the time. They're better off being apart. If more people did it, everyone would be happier."

I frowned and looked at him for a moment. "You guys are happier now?"

He shrugged. "I didn't say that."

I watched Devon for as long as I could without putting us both in serious danger. He was slumped in the seat, his fingers tapping impatiently against his lap and his forehead leaned against the window. Something about the tapping of the fingers reminded me of Merrill, whenever he was agitated or hadn't reached for his cigarettes in a while.

"How long have you been smoking?" A grin pulled at my lips as Devon's eyes widened.

Devon stared at me. "I-"

"Look, don't worry about it. I'm not going to sell you out to Graham or your teachers or blah blah blah. Just wondered."

Devon slumped back into his seat. "I don't know. Around eleven, I guess."

I stared at him. "Eleven years?"

Devon rolled his eyes. "Age eleven."

I exhaled. "How'd you start?"

Devon snorted. "I don't know. How does anyone start?"

From another kid, it would have been belligerent-but somehow, not from Devon. It just sounded like a genuine question, one that had probably been misinterpreted by a thousand different people.

"I don't know. Never smoked."

It was Devon who snuck a glance at me from under half-closed eyelids now. "Does it freak you out?"

I frowned. "What?"

"The smoking."

I shook my head. "No. I mean, be pretty hypocritical if it did. My boyfriend and half my friends smoke. But no. I mean, I wish you wouldn't but no."

Devon looked at me. "Why'd you wish I wouldn't?"

I took my eyes off the road for a second to stare at him. "Because I don't want you getting sick." I turned back to the road. "Anyway, wouldn't your brother care?"

Devon snorted, his lip curling into a wry smile. "He doesn't really care what I do."

"And your dad?"

Something flickered across Devon's face then-a quick shadow, a cloud for a moment. Quietly, he said "Doesn't notice."

I watched Devon again and I didn't say anything this time. Neither of us said anything until we pulled up to the turn-off to his house.

As the car came to a halt, Devon yanked at the door. "I can walk from here."

"Hey, wait." Devon kept moving and my hand landed on his shoulder. "Wait, wait, wait, I'm driving you up."

"You don't need to, it's OK-"

"No, it isn't. With all the crazy stuff going on at the moment, it really isn't. Sit back down."

Devon sat, though not without muttering some complaints. Then again, I was used to that with Morgan. I drove the car a few extra yards and as a result landed Devon about twenty yards from his house.

Devon's shoulders had tensed and although I couldn't see clearly in the dark, his face seemed suddenly paler. "Thanks." He yanked at the door handle this time, half throwing himself out the car.

I glanced at the house which seemed to be in complete darkness. "Is anyone in for you?"

"My brother." Devon hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. "Thanks for the ride, Isabelle."

It was one of the few times he'd used my name. "It's fine. Have a good night."

"You too." Devon raised his hand in a farewell as he headed towards the steps.

I watched as he pushed open the door, giving me a final wave before he wandered inside. I waited for a moment after the door closed behind him, staring at the house and wondering just what he was keen on keeping us away from.

I told Merrill about it that night. "Something just seems off about Devon's family."

"Course there does. Lionel Pritchard's in his family."

I swatted his arm. "Forget about Lionel Pritchard. Just something about the way Devon talks about them."

Merrill exhaled, smoke curling out of his lips. "I guess. He never mentions them, it's always us who bring them up."

"And even then he tries changing the subject." I tucked my hair behind my ears, yanking my T-shirt down. "Something about what he says doesn't add up."

Merrill stubbed out his cigarette on the ash tray. I smacked his shoulder. "You're meant to smoke outside."

Merrill winked at me, and I glared back, struggling to keep my lips from breaking into a smirk.

Merrill leaned over to the cigarette, bent down and whispered "Sorry. She found out. You'll have to be outside from now on." He waved at the cigarette mournfully.

I burst out laughing and Merrill grinned, lowering his mouth until his lips almost brushed mine. "Still mad at me?"

I had to close my eyes to concentrate, every inch of me straining towards him. "Yep."

Merrill's hands slid over my hips. His fingers touched my skin, leaving trails of heat where they stroked. "Really?"

"Yeah." My voice was a whisper.

Merrill's eyes locked with mine and I felt myself shiver, deliberately forcing my lips to form words. "Trying to get around me?"

Merrill's lips formed a smirk and his fingers danced under my ears, making me shiver. I sighed, his name breaking on my voice.

Merrill's lips moved against mine as he spoke, inches away from kissing me. "It's all the time you spend with Devon."

"What, you're jealous?" I could barely focus, though I skated my fingers underneath his ears, prompting his fingers to tighten on my T-shirt, a low sound in his throat.

"Are you?" My voice was teasing now, and his eyes flickered open to meet mine. I looked into them, meeting his gaze-now unfocused, that heat in them almost physical-and was suddenly struck by something-a wave of what almost felt like homesickness. My hands which had been stroking his skin a moment ago slid to his shoulders and tightened on his shirt. Something about the moment left me feeling suddenly off-kilter, as if the world had just tilted to the side and we might slide off it without warning.

"Hey." Merrill's voice was low, and I knew he'd detected the sudden change in mood. His eyes were still on mine, and when my hand slid down to his chest, his heart was still pounding against my skin, but his voice was lower now, his hand sliding to my cheek. "You OK?"

I nodded, and swallowed hard, reminding myself that it was. It was right now, at least, no matter what was going on outside. I was with Merrill and he was with me and it was then that I sighed and leaned my forehead against his.

"I love you." My voice was a whisper and when my hand slid against his neck, I felt like I was drowning in heat. My mouth slid back to his and I whispered the words again. "I love you."

Merrill's lips brushed mine as he whispered. "Love you too."

My thoughts were vanishing under a tidal wave of heat and wanting and everything I loved about him, everything I wanted, as I moved my head slowly forwards until finally my mouth met his in a kiss. His lips opened mine and they were hot and wanting and fierce as his hand slid into my hair. I closed my eyes, feeling like I was going to splinter into pieces as I gripped his shirt, my hands sliding over his skin, my legs wrapping around him until he whispered my name, before burying his face in my neck, my head falling back as I whispered "I love you" over and over. Merrill's mouth pressed against my skin, whispered the same words to me, and I closed my eyes, my mind seeming to shatter into shards of sensation, thoughts of the outside world blissfully vanishing in the heat of Merrill's lips and the feeling of his mouth on mine, as though we were the only two people in the world.

---

I hadn't visited my mother in several weeks now, and after a while I could no longer ignore the nagging sensation in the back of my head. So, Merrill and I drove up one weekend, taking Morgan along for the ride too. Bo had stayed at home with Graham, who had been planning to spend some quality time with her.

"Don't know what he thinks that's going to do" was Morgan's less optimistic view on the matter. "It's not exactly going to give her a huge boost of freaking cheer, is it?"

Merrill leaned his head against the window, one hand on the wheel as he drove. "Found out anything else yet?"

Morgan sighed. "No" he said, leaning over the back of my seat to get a better look at his uncle as he spoke. "You know there's been a load of weird activity with birds, though?"

I sighed. "Birds, Ray Reddy, Hannah said Darren's been having problems, the car going apeshit the other day, Bo being generally weird, nightmares, scars, weird storms, people being chased, random doubles-it's like living in freaking horror land, where you don't know what the hell's going to jump out next."

Morgan grabbed my shoulder. "Boo."

"Not funny."

We pulled up outside and Morgan slid out of the car slowly, yanking his earphones up. "Do your parents know?" he asked me, jerking his head towards the house.

I shook my head. "Don't want to worry them."

Morgan's eyes met mine and he nodded. He pressed his finger to his lips at the exact moment that the front door opened and my mother came out to greet us, wrapping Morgan and I in a hug. I noticed she turned to Morgan first. Thanks, Mom.

She met Merrill's eyes. "Hello, Merrill."

Merrill glanced at me, eyes creased in confusion. It was only then that I remembered I'd never actually informed her that Merrill and I were no longer fighting-Hannah knew, but then, we saw each other every day and her only remark on the matter had been "Let me know if he pisses you off again, but not at ten at night."

But I'd neglected to inform my mother. Oops.

Merrill looked back at my mother, who was regarding him rather coolly. "Hi, Mrs. Henderson."

My mother nodded once, then turned back towards the front door.

"Mom" I hissed, leaning close to her ear as we made our way inside. "We're not fighting anymore. It's OK."

My mother gave me a long look. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

However, it seemed to take a great deal of reassurance for her to believe me and there was a small amount of coolness in the way she addressed Merrill, who, to give him credit, behaved as if he noticed nothing unusual.

It was sitting at the table, eating banana cake, that my mother addressed Morgan. "How's your dad, then?"

Morgan did manage to answer the question, a relative achievement given how full his mouth was at the time. "He's OK."

"And Bo?"

It took Morgan longer to answer this time. His chewing slowed and I had the impression he was doing some quick thinking.

"She's...OK" he said, with a glance at me. My mother followed his gaze, raising an eyebrow and I sighed, sharing a look with Merrill.

"She's not speaking much" I said carefully, my hand sliding into Merrill's under the table. "And she seems a little...bothered by things."

"She keeps waking up in the night" Morgan chipped in.

I frowned. "What?"

Morgan nodded. "She wakes up. And thinks someone's after her. Someone's come to get her. She says there's someone standing by her bed."

Merrill and I shared another stare-this time, for longer. "How long's this been happening?" I said, turning back to Morgan.

Morgan shrugged. "About a week. She keeps coming into my room."

I swallowed. "About a week" I said slowly. "Right."

"Like you, Isabelle."

I looked at my mother. "Like me?" My fingers tapped back and forth on the table.

"When you were a little girl." My mother was staring at me across the table now. "You used to wake up and run into our room every night, convinced there was someone at the end of your bed. You'd be hysterical. It took a while for you to grow out of it."

I frowned. Something about the image stirred something in my head, but I wasn't sure entirely what. "How old was I?"

"It went on from when you were tiny." My mother reached across the table and tucked my hair behind my ears, smiling slightly at my reaction. "You were always scared. Until you were about nine or ten."

I frowned. "Weird. Don't remember any of it."

"Oh, we weren't too worried." My mother leaned back in her chair. "It's probably just a phase. Colleen went through it, too."

"Colleen?" That was a surprise. I didn't remember Colleen being scared of anything.

"Yes." My mother laughed, though she was quieter now, and her eyes avoided mine. "She was never scared of the dark. Never. Until she was about seven, and then she slept with the lights on for about four years. She was convinced there was someone at the end of her bed-the same as you. Same as Bo, by the sounds of it." She tapped her own fingers against her mug. "Strange."

Morgan and I exchanged glances. "Strange" I repeated. Underneath the table, Merrill's fingers threaded through mine and I returned the gentle squeeze, my thoughts flickering back to Bo, and wondering just what the hell I could expect to hear next.

---

"So" I said to Merrill quietly after dinner, as Morgan disappeared into the family room to talk to my father. "Apparently, Colleen and I were weird kids, too."

Merrill raised an eyebrow. "I can see that."

I elbowed him." Seriously," I said, glancing towards the family room. "Don't you think this is weird? Like, worryingly weird."

Merrill shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe that part has nothing to do with it."

"What?"

"Well-" Merrill tipped his head towards the family room. "Maybe it's just a family thing or something. I mean, you and Colleen-"

"Did it and didn't have any aliens hovering over our heads, yeah, I know." I sighed, and let my head fall into my hands for a few moments. "This is complicated."

My head leaned against Merrill's chest. "Now it's even more complicated."

Merrill's lips nuzzled my hair for a moment, which ceased pretty abruptly when my father appeared in the doorway.

"Isabelle." The word seemed to grate in his throat as his arms slid around my shoulders. He nodded at Merrill over my shoulder. "Hey, Merrill."

"Hey." Merrill returned the greeting, his hand lingering on my arm for a moment before he turned to Morgan who was standing in the doorway, hovering as if uncertain where to turn next.

My father drew back, his teeth nibbling at his lip. I looked at him closer. "Dad, you-" I had to swallow. "You don't look too good."

He shook his head, holding up his hand. "I've been worse, trust me."

But something about him looked different. The lines around his eyes were deeper, more prominent. The eyes themselves blinked more slowly, the hand movements were more shaky. Was everyone around me getting older now or was that the way it had always been?

"You OK?" I watched him closer now. Over his shoulder, I noticed Morgan's eyes, also narrowed, taking in his grandfather with a watchful gaze.

He nodded, and turned to Merrill. "Nice to see you, Merrill."

As he and Merrill launched into a-presumably sports-related-conversation, I turned to Morgan. "You OK?"

He nodded, his eyes on mine. "Isabelle?"

"Yeah?"

Morgan's lips parted and his mouth closed again. For a second, he resembled a surprised goldfish. "I just-"

"What?"

His gaze flickered to my father again, and then he shook his head. "Nothing. Just-" He hesitated. "Did you look through the book?"

I closed my eyes. "Not yet, Morgan. It's been slipping my mind. " Along with nearly everything else.

Morgan swallowed. "Maybe it would be a good idea."

"Subtle. I'll take a look at it tonight."

A smirk flickered its' way to Morgan's lips but vanished again almost immediately, his gaze landing on my father again. I watched him, taking in the way his teeth nibbled at his lip, the same as my father's, the same as mine.

---

"Right." I leaned against Merrill's shoulder, as I peered at the index of Morgan's beloved book, sprawled out on the bed that night. "Let's see what it says."

And with that, we began reading.

A lot of the time was spent looking something up in the index, then frantically turning to a page and scanning it, only to turn, disappointed, back to the index immediately. This occurred several times.

Eventually, Merrill grew bored with the whole exercise and slumped back on the bed while I leafed back and forth through the pages aimlessly. There were occasionally interesting bits but most of them seemed either needlessly scientific or entirely irrelevant.

My eyes drifted over the pages, until they came to a heading near the bottom of a page. I sat up, pushing my hair behind my ears and quickly found the start of the next paragraph with my eyes, running my gaze over the following sentences.

Merrill's eyes, which had been half-closed, widened now, as he too leaned forwards, interest apparently piqued. "What are you looking at?"

"Listen to this." I pushed my hair behind my ears and began to read aloud. "The Chosen. In the past, people believed that certain children were born with different abilities to others. These traits would not necessarily be skills or attributes, though there could be evidence of abnormally high intellect or precognition. However, more commonly, these abilities would present themselves in the form of an awareness and a heightened appeal to supernatural beings. People believed the symptoms could present at any time, even well into the adult years, but may first appear during times of illness or trauma. They were also commonly believed to be a reaction to supernatural or paranormal events. Certain traits were associated with these children, such as precognitive awareness, high intellect, precocity, insomnia, night terrors-" My eyes narrowed. "Unusual behaviours, lack of interest in conversation-"

Merrill bit his lip. "So...we're talking Matilda combined with that kid from the Sixth Sense?"

I'd gone quiet. He held up his hands. "OK. Too far."

I still didn't speak. Merrill frowned. "Isabelle?"

I raised my gaze from the book slowly. "An aversion to a food or drink substance, such as water."

Merrill's eyes widened. I stared back down at the page. The words seemed to blur before my eyes, wavering in my vision. I gripped the book harder, as if reassuring myself of its' existence, as if reassuring myself everything was still there.

---

That night, curled up in bed next to him, I couldn't help but keep talking.

"Do you think it's real?"

Merrill rolled over to look at me, his arm slipping around me. "I don't know, Izzy."

"Do you think that's what's happening with Bo?"

"Izzy." Merrill pressed a kiss to my head. "Try to sleep."

"What if-"

"Try to sleep." Merrill stroked my hair off my face. "You're not going to do anything about it now, are you?"

I shrugged. "Guess not."

I nestled against his chest, and closed my eyes. However, almost immediately, they flew open again.

I was facing away from Merrill so my gaze rested on the edge of the bed. For a second, I stared, sure I'd see a figure standing there, waiting, watching.

I closed my eyes. You used to wake up and run into our room every night, convinced there was someone at the end of your bed.

I opened my eyes again. There was nothing there.

I stared into the darkness for a moment, before firmly closing my eyes and cuddling closer to Merrill. I didn't open them again and eventually drifted off to sleep, though not without an unease lurking in the back of my mind.

---

"So, let's get this straight" said Hannah, frowning as she stared at me over dinner. "You think there could be a chance you and Bo are part of this weird little-"Chosen"-cult?"

I sighed. "It's not a cult. And not really. It just seemed-strange." I twisted a strand of hair around my finger. "It's creepy."

Hannah looked at me. "What was the other stuff you found out in the library?"

Any spare time I'd had that week had been spent looking things up on the library computers, searching for any information about "Chosen children." I was starting to wonder what the college moderators made of my search history.

Hannah snorted when I mentioned this. "You didn't find out anything, right?"

I sighed. "Nothing. At all. I could only find a few mentions of it." I chewed at my lip. "Sounds like this author guy's the only guy who's heard of them."

Hannah shrugged. "Maybe he made it up."

I shook my head. "Doesn't sound like it. It was just weird. How many things there were that applied. It was kind of bizarre."

Hannah sighed. "Maybe you should look this guy up."

"I was thinking about it." Pushing the door open, I stepped outside into the cool evening air. There was a greyness to the sky, an overcast foreshadowing of rain. "How's Darren?"

Hannah tucked her hands into the crooks of her elbows, as she folded her arms. "Coming home next week. Can't wait."

I looked at her. "Are you OK on your own? Like-" I waved my hand vaguely, still reluctant to say the words. "Ever since-"

Hannah sighed. "I'm OK, Isabelle."

I nodded. "Just wanted to know."

Hannah gave me a quick glance. "What did Merrill think?"

"What do you mean?"

"About all this."

"He thinks-" I sighed. "He doesn't know what to think."

"You're not fighting again, though, right?"

"No, we're not fighting anymore. And we're talking." I felt a smile flicker to my lips. "I'm glad. I missed him."

"Yeah, and you didn't smile for about two weeks. It was like being friends with Eeyore."

I laughed, and then stopped, watching Hannah. "Do you think we're going to be OK?" I asked her and I wasn't smiling now. "All of us?"

Hannah's eyes met mine. "I hope so" she said, and she wasn't smiling either.

---

"Hey." I pulled Morgan aside as he headed towards the kitchen. "You got a minute?"

"Yeah." Morgan nodded, his head ducking slightly as he turned towards me. I could hear muffled voices from the kitchen where Graham and Merrill were absorbed in conversation.

"Listen." I pulled out his book and let it fall open, passing it to him to hold. "Have you read this bit?"

Morgan's eyes scanned the paragraph I was pointing at , his brow furrowing as his eyes moved over the words. "No."

"OK." I waited a moment. "What do you think?"

Morgan frowned, handing the book back. "Sounds pretty far out" he said, fairly. "But then-"

"But then?"

Morgan met my gaze. "But then not much seems far out now."

We watched each other for a moment, Morgan's eyes narrowing by degrees.

"How's Devon?" I asked. "What do you think he'll say?"

"I'm here" came a voice over my shoulder and I turned to see Devon Pritchard making his way down the stairs.

I turned to him. "Did Graham adopt you or something?"

I sensed Morgan stiffen and Devon froze for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes moving from one to the other of us.

"Devon, it was a joke." I beckoned him. "Come and look at this."

His face clearing a little, Devon approached us, reaching out to take the book. "What?"

Morgan indicated the paragraph and Devon read, his own brows furrowing. "Wow" he said, when he'd finished.

"What do you think?"

"I think..." Devon pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. "I think...wow."

I waited for some expansion on this informative remark.

Devon shook his head. "Wow."

I sighed. "Look, I'm not saying it's true-"

"I know. But...it's weird." Devon looked at Morgan. "I mean, no offence but that's your sister to a T."

Morgan shrugged. "None taken."

"Where is Bo, anyway?"

"Upstairs." Morgan handed the book back to me, using his hand to mark the page.

"When was her last appointment with Elizabeth?" I asked, shoving the book under my arm.

"This morning." Morgan was heading into the kitchen. "Think she's taken a vow of silence."

Devon snorted and I rolled my eyes. "Did Graham speak to her?"

"Did Graham speak to who?" asked Graham himself, as Morgan yanked out a seat at the table.

"Elizabeth. Bo's therapist."

Graham nodded. "Apparently, Bo decided to go mute for a day."

"Wonderful. Did she come back from Silent World or is she maintaining permanent residence?"

"Hasn't decided yet." Graham gave me a rueful smile.

"Maybe she's renting" was Merrill's comment. "It's cheap this time of year."

"Hilarious." Graham rolled his eyes at his younger brother, who looked supremely unconcerned.

Morgan had slid into a chair and after a hesitant moment, Devon joined him at the table.

"Where'd we get you from?" I asked, sitting down opposite them and addressing the question to Devon who looked up, seemingly startled at the attention.

"Just came home with Morgan" was his muttered answer, with a quick glance at my nephew.

Morgan slumped back in his seat. His sleeves slid up and I noticed a shadow at his wrist.

"What's that?" I asked, leaning forward.

"Nothing." Morgan's reply was a little too quick and he yanked at his sleeve, the material covering the mark before I could get a closer look. "It's nothing!" he added defensively at my stare, his eyes widening indignantly.

I opened my mouth but was interrupted by Graham, who appeared not to have heard the exchange. "Elizabeth says that she's optimistic, though."

"About Bo?" I twisted round in my seat to face him.

"Yeah. Among other things."

I frowned. "What other things?"

"Well, the physical tests came back negative. So while we have to look at things from a psychological standpoint now, it also means she's not suffering from epilepsy or anything similar."

I nodded-that was a relief. "So what does she think's happening?"

Graham sighed. "She still thinks it's more likely to be a delayed reaction to trauma than an actual mental illness."

"Like PTSD for a child?"

"Maybe." Graham sighed. "It didn't sound quite that severe but I suppose it's a possibility."

"Post-traumatic stress, right?" Merrill slung his arm around my shoulders as he sank into the chair next to me.

"Yep" I nodded, my eyes fixed on Graham.

Graham sighed. "But more likely, trauma-related behaviour."

I shrugged. "Maybe it'll become clearer as time goes by. It can take a while."

Graham nodded, his teeth sinking into his lip. He turned back to the cupboards and his eyes fell on the garbage can, which was half-overflowing with trash. "Can someone take this out, please?"

"I'll do it." Morgan almost fell out of his chair in eagerness to volunteer, causing Merrill and I to exchange a quick look of surprise. The last time Graham had asked Morgan to take out the trash, there had been a lengthy discussion on the subject, followed by several bartering attempts from Morgan, culminating in the trash bag being thrown with such force into the garbage can that the liner ripped and a slamming of Morgan's bedroom door that led Merrill to wonder aloud how likely it was that the roof would fall in.

I frowned after him as he carried the bag to the door before I turned to Devon. "What's up with him?" I mouthed, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at him.

Devon shrugged and avoided my eyes a little too quickly. I frowned again but Merrill was already speaking.

"How many sessions is she getting?"

"We don't know yet." Graham turned back to face us, gripping the back of a chair. "We've got to see how things go."

My gaze fell to the alien book in my lap. Idly, I began to flip through the pages, my eyes roving over the pictures.

"Does Bo speak at all in there?" Merrill had swung himself round in his chair to face his brother, head leaning on his hand idly. Outside, there were the faint sounds of the trash can lid being lifted and the faint clatter of a bag being thrown in.

"Sometimes" was Graham's reply. "Other times, it's like a very awkward cemetery."

A quick smirk flickered to Merrill's lips.

I flipped over another page and stared. The two pages were filled with a picture. A house, standing tall over a lawn. A house with long boards and windows that seemed to watch silently. A house that looked very like Graham's.

Over the house was a spaceship. It wasn't hard to tell. It looked like every spaceship you'd ever seen in a film or cartoon. A giant ray was blasted towards the house, presumably about to incinerate the building.

But my eyes lingered on the bottom of the page, where three black figures lay on the ground. One larger figure and two smaller ones. A man. A man and two children.

I stared at the figures for a long moment. They all looked decidedly lifeless.

And it was at that moment that there was a shriek from outside.

Graham dived for the door before the rest of us had had time to move. "Morgan?"

I flung myself out of the chair, as did Merrill. Devon followed a second behind, as we all threw ourselves at the back door at once, causing a small scrimmage as we each fought to be the first one outside.

Merrill stepped out first and I followed, Devon lagging behind me as we skidded to a halt. Graham was standing stock still, looking straight up.

"Bo." His voice was determinedly steady. "Don't move, sweetheart. Just stay exactly where you are."

I looked up and grabbed Merrill's shoulder.

Bo was standing on her window ledge, her face pointed straight ahead. Her toes pointed an inch over the side, dangling in the bare air. If she moved an inch forward, she'd drop about thirty feet.

"Jesus Christ-" Merrill's voice was a whisper. Below the window stood Morgan, who was staring up at her, his eyes frozen wide with horror.

"Merrill-" I whispered. "Merrill, we need to catch her."

Merrill didn't answer and I fastened a tighter grip on his arm. "Merrill!"

His gaze broke away from the window and locked with mine. He nodded once, hard.

Graham stepped forward, so that he was standing under the window. "Merrill" he said over his shoulder, through what sounded like gritted teeth. "Come up behind me."

Merrill did so. His eyes remained fixed on his niece, who looked tiny where she stood.

"Now" said Graham quietly. "If she falls, you catch her."

Merrill nodded.

Graham turned and without preamble, headed towards the house. "I'll get her from inside her room."

I stood frozen for a second, before I moved forward to stand beside Merrill.

"Jesus" Merrill was whispering. "Oh, Jesus-"

"Merrill-" I stared up at her. "Merrill, she's going to fall-"

Bo's face stared out into the evening air. I could not read her expression at all.

"Oh God, Merrill-"

I took a step forward and it was then that Bo looked down.

And then she smiled.

It was a horrible smile-a smile that didn't belong on any child's face, let alone Bo's. The eyes were narrowed, the lips twisted into a sneering grin, the nostrils almost flared. It was a savage look, a wild look, and one that belonged on the face of someone much older, jaded, twisted.

I stared up at her, unable to look away.

And then she leaned forward.

There was a small shriek from my mouth but it cut off quickly. Morgan and Devon both dived forwards but Merrill was already there, his arms out, under his niece.

I wanted to close my eyes but I couldn't. It seemed to take an age for Bo to fall-for her feet to slip off the edge and for her tiny body to plummet through the air, her eyes wide, her lips pressed together, making no sound at all.

Merrill could catch her. Merrill would catch her.

My feet caught over one another and I stumbled, my gaze falling from the house for a moment. At the very moment I looked away, there was a yell-and then a sharp, sickening thud.

I didn't look. I didn't have to. I didn't need to look to know that Merrill hadn't caught her.

I'm probably the cruellest person in the world to leave the chapter there. But I promise Chapter 8 will be up soon-a lot sooner than this one was, anyway. In the meantime, leave a review if you liked it. :)